


Runnin'

by purplexeyed



Category: Captain America (2011), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Either way I'm screwed, F/M, I Don't Even Know, My OC is going to kill me, Or go for a deep sea dive in the Marianas Trench, Somuchangst, This came out of nowhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplexeyed/pseuds/purplexeyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Adam Lambert song of the same name.</p><p>In which my OC joins the Avengers, starts to feel welcome, accepted...<br/>And then reality punches her in the face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Runnin'

**Author's Note:**

> Listening to "Runnin'" by Adam Lambert while reading this is encouraged. Really.  
> Not quite a songfic, though there are lyrics in it. Which I obviously do not own.

Runnin'

_Steel to my trembling lips,_  
 _How did the night ever get like this?_  
 _One shot and the whiskey goes down, down, down_  
 _Bottom of the bottle hits_  
 _Waking up my mind as I throw a fit_  
 _The breakin' is takin' me down, down, down_

Ellie knocked back another shot, the burn a welcome sensation as it traced its way down the back of her throat. The song—an Adam Lambert one, she was half-sure—played in the background at the small, almost empty bar. It added to the atmosphere rather well. And damned if that didn't make her feel like some angsty little teenager, bitching that the rest of the world would never know, would never understand.

_'Round and around I go_  
 _Addicted to the numb livin' in the cold_  
 _The higher, the lower, the down, down, down_  
 _Sick of being tired and sick_  
 _And ready for another kind of fix_  
 _The damage is damning me down, down, down_

The faintest of smirks curled the corner of her mouth. Damn this song. It fit all too fucking well. Then again, she was giving herself a free pass on everything tonight—exempting murder—on principal alone. Tomorrow she'd have to be all smiles and congratulations, so tonight? Tonight was for getting absolutely fucking wasted and being as angsty as she fucking felt like being.

She'd knew this'd happen, right from the start. Did it help? Did it stop her? No, it fucking didn't. Same song and dance, Ellie. Same song and dance as ever, and you danced your part flawlessly. Care for an encore?

A small sigh escaped her and she was rather glad for the lack of mirrors in this particular bar. Had she seen her reflection at this point, she couldn't've guaranteed the glass she was drinking wouldn't've shattered itself as well as the mirror.

Awkward, kind, sweet, strong…but firm and authoritative at need. That didn't even begin to sum him up. All she knew was they didn't make men like him anymore. Kinda helped that he was raised during the early 20th century, but, hey. It just went to prove the point. Her thoughts were starting to make too much sense again; she promptly chased them away with another burn of Everclear. She wasn't fast enough to stop the recollection of the day it all started from returning to the forefront of her thoughts.

_"Good job, guys."_

_His comment earned several pairs of rolled eyes and a few sneers, but the team and the captain knew those were just for show, that the comment was actually appreciated. They all were tired, battered, bruised, but victorious._

_After being excused from clean-up, they were all guided to the Quinjet; the trip back was peppered with banter, due to Tony's inability to let others alone. Well, aside from Bruce. But the scientist had fallen asleep in his seat and a general rule was that he was to be let alone, especially after missions. All of them needed downtime._

_Which was why Tony and Thor carried Bruce in at their arrival rather than wake him; Natasha and Clint vanished, most likely going to tend each other's hurts in secret. He turned to her, noted her arm and prodded and poked and pestered until she followed him to the infirmary that was usually Bruce's territory._

_He treated the admittedly painful injury himself; he explained that "it wasn't because I don't trust you to do it yourself…I'd rather do it. No one should have to tend to their own injuries, especially when it was their dominant hand that had been hurt" and his earnest tone, earnest expression stuck with her._

She slammed her empty shot on the counter. That had been the first time she had taken notice of him as anything other than her leader. She had been civil, if not friendly, to all of her new teammates, but she had never really clicked with the group, let alone him. She had no idea he had known she was left-handed or that she was bad with first aid, let alone bandages.

It was one of the first times in recent memory that a mortal had managed to surprise her. Surprise her in a way that didn't end with someone injured, dead or miserable. A positive way.

That had made her sit up and take notice. There was something different about this one, this Captain America.

And that had been her undoing.

That first surprise should have taught her, should have shown her not to underestimate this mortal, this Captain America. But it didn't. And she did.

_"Ellie?"_

_She glanced up from her sketching. "Hm?"_

_"We're ordering takeout—Chinese. What would you like?"_

_She stared at him for a moment. This was hardly the first time they had ordered out—it was the first time she had been included, though. Whenever they ordered out, she just made herself something from the kitchen and then made herself scarce._

_At her expression, he grinned slightly. "I noticed that you didn't join us the last few times. So I figured it would be better to make sure you knew that you were included in 'family dinner night'."_

_"…chicken fried rice is fine." She eventually replied quietly. And when she had joined them at the table later, no one had sneered or asked her why she was there. In fact, Tony had asked what took her so long to join them._

_Captain America smiled at her from across the table before he turned his attention back to Bruce, who he was pestering to eat._

_She shrugged. And then stole the small container of fried noodles._

_Tony called war and things devolved from there, but it had been just the first of many 'family dinner nights'._

The burn didn't cause her thoughts to scatter this time. In fact, they reminded her that 'family dinner night' would never be the same again. And since she had long since cracked and told them that she enjoyed said nights immensely, it would be glaringly noticeable if she stopped attending.

That wasn't to say she had never missed one before…

_"Here."_

_Ellie glanced up from her people-watching and was surprised to find Captain America offering her a quart of steaming chicken fried rice._

_"Thanks." She accepted it but made no move to open it._

_"I'm sorry."_

_Her head snapped to the side, eyes connecting with his; hers were narrowed with suspicion, his were open and sincere._

_"For?" She asked._

_"We've been a team so long that we forget what it was like when we started. How hard it was for all of us to work together like we do now. So we forget that you might not…might not feel comfortable, since we all seem to fit together as well as we do." He sighed quietly. "We forget that we need to readjust, so you can mesh with us as well as we mesh with each other."_

_She eyed the carton. "In other words, you forget because your team works so well that it's a bit insular to outsiders."_

_He nodded. "And I'm sorry for that. We haven't had a new member since the team was formed. So this is as much a learning experience for you as it is for us."_

_That earned him a searching look._

_He smiled slightly. "Not used to people who admit their mistakes?"_

_"No, I'm not." She conceded before opening the carton and beginning to poke at it with the chopsticks he helpfully supplied._

_The smile she got in return for at least trying, at least extending a hand, despite all the difficulties they had…_

_That was when, at least in her head, he became 'Cap' as opposed to 'Captain' or 'Sir'._

Two shots later and still the memories flowed on. Ellie scowled at the Everclear—it was 90% alcohol for fuck's sake—even to her constitution, it should take longer to metabolize. But no. Her thoughts were still too clear and happily dragging her back down memory lane.

_"Not to, uh, be insulting…"_

_Forget Eris, stick her in a room with an awkward and hovering Cap and just watch her squirm. She would talk, oh hell yes she would._

_"Spit it out, Cap."_

_The startled-but-pleased look that flashed across his features was all she needed to see that her accidental slip of the tongue was okay._

_"Well, I'd noticed that you're not so good at, uh…" He stopped when her eyes met his._

_"At what, exactly? There are plenty of things I suck at, Cap." She suppressed a laugh when he flushed. "Sorry. Bit too used to bein' one of the guys with Tony'n'Clint."_

_He smiled slightly, as though to say it "was fine, sorta" and stumbled on. "About your bandaging."_

_"You mean my creative attempts at turning anyone and everyone into happy little mummies at the wrong time of year?"_

_That startled a laugh from him._

_"I'm…alright, I can be arrogant. You've seen me arrogant. But when I know I'm horrible at something and you're not calling me on it to be a jerk? I'm fine with that."_

_"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to learn how to do it properly."_

_She smirked. "You volunteering to be a happy little mummy then?"_

_He grinned. "Nope. Clint irritated Natasha, so now he's, uh, volunteered to be your test-dummy."_

_"Emphasis on 'dummy'." Natasha added, causing both of them to jump. Clint crossed his arms and scowled at both of them._

The hilarity that had ensued, which had, as usual, drawn the rest of the Avengers into it, almost managed to coax the faintest of grins onto her face. Almost. As quickly as the feeling came, it vanished; another memory decided it was time to play. And this one was far less pleasant and light-hearted than the preceding.

_"What exactly were you thinking?"_

_She looked up from her admittedly better bandaging—she would have to thank Clint for that, provided he stopped giving her the evil eye every time it was mentioned—and found herself staring up at a visibly incensed Cap._

_"I was thinking that I could handle it. And I did."_

_"You nearly lost your arm!" Blue eyes crackled and sparked; for a moment, she would swear he was the one with the power over lightning._

_"An acceptable loss." She returned with a half-shrug. "Not mortal, remember?"_

_"This isn't a matter of mortal or not! This is a matter of you putting yourself in needless danger. You are **not** expendable. No one on this team is, whether they're mortal, god or otherwise."_

_She looked up again, about to respond, when he stalked off to the cockpit._

_The others said nothing, but their expressions spoke for them._

She wasn't drunk enough to handle the next memory. She didn't think she'd ever be drunk enough to handle the next memory. She reached for the bottle to pour herself another shot only to find it empty.

"Fuck."

_Retreating to her room seemed the best bet. So she did._

_She wasn't expecting visitors. Or any of her teammates. So she really should not have been surprised when the one who perpetually proved her wrong, perpetually did everything that was unexpected, did so. As usual._

_A knock at her door. She rose, answered._

_A visibly still-irritated and tense Cap stared back._

_"Yes?" She managed out; while she understood his position, it didn't mean she had to like it. Or be pleasant about being bitched out in front of the others. He was usually good about that. He tried not to berate them when their other teammates were around—something about it not being 'proper'. She'd forgotten how much she appreciated it, 'til today._

_"That was wrong."_

_He had about five seconds before his face would meet the door._

_"The yelling at you in front of the others. In the middle of a fight it's one thing…afterwards, when they're all standing around listening…that's another. I am sorry about that." A muscle in his jaw twitched._

_She sighed. "Cap, watch. And watch closely, 'cuz I'm only doin' this once."_

_He nodded tightly._

_She phased. Her curly brown hair turned black as her olive skin faded to a paper-white; the green color of her eyes was replaced by a dull grey. The injured shoulder, which had been oozing blood, stopped. She ripped the sleeve off; the injury was gone. A scar was in its place._

_She phased again; the scar went from dark grey to deep pink. "It'll continue to heal 'til it's all but gone." She added, not looking at him._

_He stared. "That's why…"_

_She nodded. "That's why. It's not that I value myself less…it's just that I heal a bit faster than Tony. And Thor wasn't close enough."_

_Cap turned away, then paused. "I'm guessing you're like Loki is about his other form?"_

_"Something like that."_

_After a few moments, she looked at her doorway; he was still there, with something that looked remarkably like understanding in his eyes. There was no disgust, no hatred—just understanding._

_That was when, if only in her mind, he went from 'Cap' to 'Steve'._

"Another?" Asked the bar tender.

She nodded and paid for the previous bottle. She didn't do tabs.

_"Thanks for that, by the way."_

_"You're welcome…?"_

_"For tossing my shield back."_

_A small shrug. "S'what teammates are for."_

_She didn't add that he'd blocked a laser for her with said shield earlier in the fight. He probably didn't even recall it anyway. And that was why he was the real hero. He did stuff like that and didn't keep track of it—didn't think of it as them owing him. He thought of it as doing what was needed, as protecting his friends, as doing the best he could._

And now she was doing the best she could to down another bottle of 90% Everclear or get alcohol poisoning trying.  Neither the burn nor the alcohol itself was helping anymore. The memories were flowing faster, thicker…and she was drowning in them.

_"You can't get drunk, Steve?" She accidentally blurted out. The others had either given up or were asleep at their spots from the drinking contest._

_That surprised-but-pleased look darted across his features again. She liked being able to cause that look, especially considering how often he pleasantly surprised her._

_"Nope. Tried." The look vanished, as though it had never been. His face was now surprisingly morose as he considered his shot of vodka._

_She paused, biting her lip, before she opened her mouth to ask—_

_She considered her hand. She was fairly certain it was a decent one, but she was new to the game. And she was tired of having to do dishes for Tony. Her gaze traveled to her teammates._

_Natasha was blank, cool and professional. Clint seemed to be trying to out-poker face her and pretty damn close to doing it. Bruce was the Zen master, as usual. No one could read him, not even Natasha. Tony sipped a cup of apple juice; his gin had been banned a hand earlier. A smirk still played around the edges of his lips, visible even with his cup in the way. Thor had long ago bowed out, as he was not skilled at games of deceit. He now watched and was glad he had no risk of incurring more chores. Steve—that's what she called him normally now, as he seemed to like it. And she liked it too—smiled at her when he noticed her searching gaze. It was a quick, fleeting smile—but it was the kind that was automatic, unable to be faked, when you saw someone._

_Warmth spread through her veins. And it wasn't the alcohol. That was when—_

_A sudden spray of water caused her still-dry hair to stick to her face. She whirled, about ready to fling Thor into a wall, Tony's protests be damned, only to find that the 'attacker' was a grinning Steve._

_"It is on, Captain."_

_His grin widened. "Is it, Commander?"_

_A water war began; the other Avengers got involved, though it began with Clint cannon-balling in with a shout of "VIVA LA SPOCK!"_

_The war was paused while all those in earshot died of laughter. She and Steve had discovered a mutual love for Star Trek and after subjecting their teammates to hours of it, had been dubbed "Captain" and "Commander"._

_Steve had protested, claiming he was nothing like Captain Kirk—Clint had replied, with a shit-eating grin, that his official title was 'Captain', so he was stuck with it. She didn't even bother to protest, knowing—_

_The two sat side by side; both had sketch pads resting on their respective laps, expressions a study in concentration. Neither glanced at what the other was bringing to life on the paper; they had long ago established that was improper. Once they were done, were ready to share, ready to reveal…it was fine. But not while it was being created. Not while they were attempting to translate color and size and shape and **meaning** from their thoughts to the paper. _

_She glanced at him; his gaze met hers. It was her turn to smile—the quick, involuntary one that could not be faked. His lips twitched, a small answering smile upon them, before his focus returned to his drawing. She returned her attention to her own drawing, unable to stop herself from grinning—_

_Steve was quiet that day. Not thoughtful quiet, not tired-quiet, not busy-quiet._

_Just quiet._

_The others either didn't notice or were used to it. They said nothing, did nothing._

_She approached the doorway to his room, plate of food in hand. A thud came from his room. It was a sound she was familiar with—when one was just too frustrated and keyed up and didn't even know how to say or do or express—and it all just bubbled over and then something, sometimes somethings, hit the walls._

_Without another thought, she left the food in at the small table by his door and left as silently as she had—_

_"Her name was Peggy."_

_She jumped, turned. Steve sat on the chair near her; close but not too close. Bit by bit the story spilled out—his past, how he came to be where he was today—it was all she could do not to hug him and—_

_She looked at the spirit of the woman who had first held Steve's heart. Her hair curly and brown, like hers. That was where the similarities ended. This spirit had brown eyes to match her hair, which was shades darker; even as a spirit, the vibrant lipstick she wore in life was present. She carried herself in a calm, confident manner. And what was more, she did not seem surprised to see Ellie._

_She took a breath, opened her mouth and decided introducing herself would be a good way to start—_

_A warm glow seemed to emanate from her chest. She had talked to Steve's former love. And it had been quite a long one, at least a day. But they had talked. And Peggy had given her blessing for Ellie to try to see if Steve would be interested in someone—someone other than the woman he had lost so long ago._

_She entered the Tower to find all the Avengers in the living room. Worried now, had something happened while she was in Hades, she found an unfamiliar—_

A sharp flare of pain cut through the memory. She found that the shot glass had shattered. Blood dripped down her hand to begin to pool on the bar but she couldn't bring herself to care. The bright red fascinated her, reminded her of Peggy's lipstick.

And that was when she remembered the woman.

_The woman who looked so like Agent Peggy Carter. Who had been tucked against Steve when Ellie had entered. Who had smiled and said "nice to meet you" when she was introduced. Who wore a ring on her left ring finger. Was tucked against Steve's side. Closer than either she or Natasha had ever been allowed. The bottom dropped from her stomach—_

She pulled herself from the memory, absently dashing the tears from her cheeks with her injured hand. The blood smeared, the glass pulled the cuts and scratched her cheek. She switched hands, picked up the bottle as the tears continued to slide down her cheeks.

"T' t'mrrah. Cn't b' wurss'n thss."

And she took another gulp of vodka, but the burn couldn't compare to the one behind her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos if you catch who the woman was.  
> And double kudos if you get what Ellie might be.


End file.
